


A bed of their own

by Dolavine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Frotting, M/M, Rimming, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 05:45:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1041051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dolavine/pseuds/Dolavine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the back of Sam’s mind he wants to be normal, have his own room and be self sufficient. Along the way he has many shared rooms, falls in love with his brother and is anything but normal. Now all he wants is a room of their own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Title:** A bed of their own  
 **Author:** Dolavine  
 **Pairing:** Sam/Dean  
 **Word Count:** 14,450  
 **Warnings:** None  
 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing and make no prophet from this.  
 **Summary:** In the back of Sam’s mind he wants to be normal, have his own room and be self sufficient. Along the way he has many shared rooms, falls in love with his brother and is anything but normal. Now all he wants is a room of their own.  
 **A/N:** Written for the [](http://samdean-otp.livejournal.com/profile)[**samdean_otp**](http://samdean-otp.livejournal.com/) minibang. Thank you to wonderful Mods for such a great minibang experience. Thank you to [](http://memoonster.livejournal.com/profile)[**memoonster**](http://memoonster.livejournal.com/) for the beta and to [](http://matchboximpala.livejournal.com/profile)[**matchboximpala**](http://matchboximpala.livejournal.com/) for the wonderful and beautiful artwork.  
 **PDF:** [AO3]()

 **Art Link:** To Be added

 

 

When Sam’s 13 years old John rents a house instead of living in a crappy roadside motel. It’s a small rundown house in the middle of farm country, in a small Midwest town that Dean likes to call Bumfuck Iowa.

“Think we’ll be staying long?” Sam asks Dean with enthusiasm as they carry boxes into the already furnished house.

“Doubt it, it’s probably just cheaper since we’re gonna be here for about a month or so while Dad gets things taken care of.”

“I bet we get to go to school and everything,” Sam’s grin is wide and Dean swears he can see a twinkle in his eye.

“Yipeeee,” he says unenthusiastically. “School,” he deadpans the word before rolling his eyes. “Rather be hunting or on the road instead.”

“Whatever grumpy pants, I like school,” when Sam sets the box on the table the dust scatters causing him to cough. “I don’t think the cleaning lady’s been here yet,” he’s waving the cloud away from his squinted eyes. Dean laughs hysterically.

“There are no cleaning ladies dumb ass, Dad’s gonna expect us to do this stuff. This is why I like motels, I make the mess, and they clean it up.”

“I was joking, Dean,” Sam rolls his eyes.

John brings in the duffel bags and sets them on the floor. “Bedrooms are down that hallway, Dean yours is the first on the left and I’m the one on the right.”

“Yes sir,” he picks up both duffels and heads down the hallway, Sam following after him. There’s only one double bed in the room. “I’ve got the right side,” Sam jumps on the bed.

John’s taking his things into his bedroom when he sees Sam flopped on the bed. “Oh no Sammy, you’ve got your own bedroom this time. You’re both old enough to have your privacy now,” he shows Sam his room.

Sam can’t believe it, his own room. Dean smiles and high fives his little brother but he has to admit that this will be the first time they’ve slept apart in years.

The room isn’t much but a single bed and one chest of drawers. There is a full length mirror on the closet door. No rug, just a hardwood floor but to Sam it’s the most amazing room he’s ever been in.

“Sorry you only have a single bed Sammy,” Dean flops down and bounces on it, the old fashioned box springs creaking as the metal frame flexes a little in the middle.

“There’s just me, a single is enough,” he smiles and jumps on alongside of Dean; they mock wrestle until John breaks it up.

Sam’s all smiles as they eat cold pizza and drink warm soda. “The electric and gas’ll be on tomorrow boys,” John reassures them as he lights another emergency candle.

After they go to bed, Sam’s all tucked in and half asleep when he hears Dean rustling around in his bed. The springs make the same noise as his and since it’s so quiet outside plus the house is nothing but a giant echo chamber with the hardwood floors that it’s super loud. “Dean, are you having trouble sleeping,” he whispers loudly. The sound stops. “Dean,” he says again. “What Sammy?” he sounds irritated. “Can’t you sleep,” Sam whispers. “I’m fine, just trying to find my spot in the bed. Now go to sleep. Good night.”

“Night” Sam replies.

The gentle creaking sound starts again but Sam ignores it and lets it lull him to sleep. Dean’s trying to be quieter this time because he’s finally able to jerk off in his own bed without worrying about waking up Sam or running into the bathroom to take care of it. He wants to relish in his moment of privacy.

In the morning Dean’s woken up to the sound of whistling. He gets up and walks into the hall, he hears Sam whistling from his room. He’s standing in the doorway in his boxers watching Sam unpack his duffel bag and hang his clothes up in the closet. “What are you so happy about,” he says yawing and stretching. Sam turns around. “I don’t know, just in a good mood is all,” he hangs up his last shirt. “Well knock it off, it’s ruining my sleep in time,” Dean winks then smiles as he’s walking all the way in to lie down across Sam’s tiny bed. “Is this a midget bed,” he teases. Sam just rolls his eyes and continues putting his jeans in the chest of drawers. “Well since you’re little Mr. Unpacker, I’m going to take a shower,” he ruffles Sam’s hair as he walks by to leave.

It’s about a week later, Sam and Dean have been enrolled in school, and it’s a little over a mile away but not too far for them to walk to and from. Although Dean continuously bitches like a little girl, Sam kind of likes walking, gives him time to think about things.

It’s Friday and Sam’s walking home, alone, since Dean found a girl that fancies him and she has a car. He offered for Sam to come along on the ride home but Sam isn’t one to be the third wheel, besides he’s not sure if he likes this girl with her long blonde hair, big boobs and over red lipstick that’s always on Dean’s mouth these last few days.

He takes the time to walk down through town and see some of where they’re living now. It’s a small main street with two diners, a pharmacy, grocery store and some shops. He’s window browsing the shops when he sees a lamp on display in a secondhand store. It is brass, has a wide beige shade, and a pull chain instead of a switch. He likes it, thinks it looks old but it has a sort of flare to it. He goes in to check it out. “Can I help you son?” the clerk asks. He’s an older man with glasses and a sweater that has patches on the elbows. “How much is the lamp?” Sam inquires. The man goes over and takes it out of the window. “Fifteen dollars,” he sets it on the counter. Sam reaches in his pocket and pulls out a five and two ones along with a few odd cents of change. He scrunches up his mouth and looks disappointed. “I only have seven and some change,” he lays it on the counter. The man looks at it. “Why does a boy your age want an old lamp like this?” he asks. Sam touches it, runs his hand over the smooth bulge of brass. “I need a lamp for my new bedroom, it’s the first room I’ve ever had of my own and well, I like this lamp,” he looks up into the man’s face. “It’s something all my own.” The man smiles at him. “Well, I can go down in price a little bit,” he pushes the money around on the counter and singles out the five. “How about five dollars?” Sam looks surprised. “I’ll take it,” he says pushing the five at the clerk. He shoves the rest of the money in his pocket and grabs the lamp. “Thanks sir,” he’s heading for the door. “You’re welcome,” he waves as he puts the money in the cash register.

When he gets home he calls for Dean to show him his lamp but he’s still not there, _Probably out necking with big boobs._ Sam says under his breath. He puts the lamp on the chest of drawers and plugs it in. He pulls the metal ball and the light comes on. He smiles at it, proud of it, his very first lamp, in his very own room. He doesn’t shut it off even though the sun is coming in through the window. He does his homework on his bed with his lamp glowing in the background.

It’s been about a month and John tells them they’re going to be here probably a few more before they can move on. Sam’s happy about it but Dean looks like he could choke something. Dean storms into his room and slams the door.

“Dean,” Sam says knocking on his door.

“Go away Sammy,” Dean yells. He can hear the bed squeaking as Dean lays down on it.

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” he’s trying to console Dean.

“Just leave me alone,” Dean’s not going to be consoled by his little brother about this. He hates having roots when all he’s known is the road since he was four.

“Fine, go ahead and be a baby about this,” Sam huffs then goes over into his room and shuts the door. He’s been making his room, his own. He has an assortment of books on a shelf that he bought and hung himself. His lamp is now on a nightstand that he found by a dumpster and a braided oval rug that a nice neighbor lady gave him takes up the space between his closet and bed.

There is a quiet knock at Sam’s door. “Come in Dean,” he knows it’s him because he heard him come out of his room next door. Dean peeks inside. “Can I come in?” he’s being much more polite this time. Sam sits up. “Sure.”

Dean takes a look around. “Was that bookshelf here before?”

“Nah, got it that at the same place I bought the lamp, got a real good deal on it, a buck fifty.”

“Huh,” Dean sits down on the edge of the bed. “And the rug?” he’s noticing all these touches Sam’s put into the bedroom.

“Mrs. McNeally gave me the rug, she was throwing it out so I took it off her hands,” Sam’s gleaming with pride.

“Mrs. McNeally?” Dean furrows his brow.

“Lives next door, gave us the cookies the day we moved in.” Dean still shakes his head like he has no clue to what Sam’s talking about. “White hair, has a golden lab dog?” Dean’s still not registering. “Beautiful daughter with long black hair and drives a BMW?”

“Oh,” A spark of recognition triggers in Dean’s memory. “Big rack,” he holds his hands out away from his chest and grins wide eyed. Sam groans.

“Yes,” Sam rolls his eyes. “Leave it to you to remember the daughter’s tits and not the nice mother.”

“Hey, guys got needs,” Dean grins wide and elbows Sam. “Anyway, enough about big tits, that’s not why I came in here.” Sam looks at him with surprised confusion as Dean continues. “I’m sorry for what I said but I was pissed off,” he gives Sam his most sincere face.

“No problem Dean,” Sam pushes Dean’s shoulder. “I figured you were getting antsy to leave. I mean, we’ve been here longer than any place in the last thirteen years, it’s only normal for you, a rambling man, to want to pick up and move along.”

“But that doesn’t excuse me for telling you to leave me alone. I’m always here for you Sammy, just know that even if I’m pissed off at Dad, I’m never pissed off at you,” he grabs Sam by the neck in a mock arm lock hold, pulls him in close and ruffles his hair. Sam giggles as he tries to push off of Dean. “Stop,” he’s laughing. His hands are barely pushing at Dean’s midsection. He doesn’t want Dean to ever let go, but he does “We cool?” he asks breathlessly, a broad smile causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle. “We’re cool,” Sam’s trying to catch his breath due to his boyish giggling.

 

It’s Saturday and John’s off hunting something, he took Dean along with him and with nothing to do, Sam decides to go into town to the used Music store. He’s browsing through the dusty bins full of records when he sees a sign. **Album covers 2 for 1.50** his interest is peaked. He spends some time riffling through them picking out three covers to hang on his wall. He wants to impress Dean a little bit so he’s choosing albums that Dean would love and then he sees it, an AC/DC’s Highway to Hell cover. He knows that Dean will absolutely love it so tucks it under his arm and goes to pay for them.

He also stops at a yard sale and picks up a few really nice muscle car models that have already been built. He buys an orange Mustang Cobra Jet, red Pontiac Firebird 400, and a Dodge Charger RT Hemi which is yellow with a black racing stripe on the hood.

He hears Dean and John coming in as he’s hanging his album covers, he doesn’t bother rushing out right away since he’s busy. He’s arranging the model cars on his chest of drawers when Dean calls for him.

“Sammy, we’re back.” Sam goes out to greet them.

“Did it turn out okay?” he punches Dean in the arm and waves hi to John.

“Of course,” he points to John. “Dad did some major butt kicking and I ganked one hot demon bitch,” he high fives Sam.

“Language Dean,” John says with a stern tone.

“Yes sir,” Dean clears his throat. “One female demon,”

Sam snickers and then whispers. “Bitch,” he quickly makes sure his dad didn’t hear him then chuckles. Dean rubs Sam’s head and rolls his eyes.

After dinner John makes his usual excuses and heads off for points unknown. Dean’s watching TV and Sam goes to his room to read.

Sam loves how he’s decorated his room and wants to show it to Dean. He also wants to give him the album cover he bought for him. He hears Dean go into his room so he finishes his chapter and heads over there.

He can hear the muffled sound of the bed springs as he’s walking over to Dean’s door. It’s shut but not tight, there is a sliver of light between the door and jam so Sam quietly pushes it without knocking. He can hear Dean panting softly as the door opens enough that he can see inside, he sees Dean, his jeans pushed to his ankles, knees spread open and hand working his hard cock. Sam’s startled; he quickly pulls the door to again as he spins around and pushes his back to the wall. He’s wide eyed and sweating. He’s clutching the album cover like it can protect him from what he’s thinking. _Dean’s jerking off._ He closes his eyes against the image of Dean’s slicked up hand moving over the long length curled inside of its grasp. He swallows hard and can’t fight the urge to look inside again. He slowly pushes the door open, just enough that he can see Dean stretched out on the bed, his eyes closed as he concentrates on whatever fantasy he’s having, he has his bottom lip caught between his teeth and he’s arching his back off of the bed. Small stifled moans come out with each exhale through his nose and his hand is working faster.

Sam finds it harder to swallow now that all of the saliva is gone from his mouth; his own groin is aching to be touched as he presses his face against the wood grain of the doorjamb, a sliver of light is accentuating his eye as he watches his brother beat off.

Dean pulls his knees up, arches his back and comes onto his own belly. His hand is pulling short tight strokes as he ejaculates several thick white spurts of come onto his skin. Sam licks his lips, his pupils are dilated and his breathing rapid. His heart is pounding hard and his cheeks are flushed pink. His hand is absently rubbing over his crotch as he watches the orgasm. Dean sighs contentedly, grabs a tissue from the box on his nightstand to wipe off his belly and fingers. Sam catches himself still staring and he’s afraid Dean might catch him when he rolls over in bed. He rushes back to his own room.

Sam quietly closes his door and sits down on the bed. He’s confused and dizzy. He wants a drink of water to moisten his dry mouth but all he can do is sit there in a dazed stupor. His brain keeps replaying the scene he just watched and he feels kind of sick in his stomach when his rational thought kicks in and he realizes he just got turned on by watching his brother jerk off. He tries to pass it off as being thirteen and constantly horny but he thinks about all the feelings he’s been having lately. All the times he’s been jealous of Dean’s new girlfriends, how when Dean touches him he gets a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach that feels like he’s sinking and when he gets hard in the middle of the night, he reaches across the bed looking for Dean’s warm skin to touch while he masturbates. Something he misses since they’ve got their own rooms now.

He falls asleep in the fetal position, holding tight to the album cover, his brain working overtime on how he can’t be infatuated with his brother, how he can’t like guys, let alone his own brother.

“Wake up sleepyhead,” Dean shakes Sam’s shoulder. Sam flutters his eyes open. “Come on, wake up,” Dean bounces on the bed then settles in next to him.

“I’m up,” he grumbles sleepily. He yawns as he turns over only to see Dean looking down at him, his groin pressed against him and he quickly scrambles to get up. “Hey Dean,” he says sitting up on the other side of the bed.

Dean’s looking at the wall with the album covers on it. “When did you do that?” he points to the decorations.

“Yesterday,” Sam’s self-conscious and finding it very hard to look Dean in the eye after what he saw.

“Cool, didn’t realize you liked Led Zeppelin,” he smiles at Sam with a knowing look.

“They’re okay,” he rests his elbow on the chest of drawers to draw Dean’s attention to the model cars.

“Hey,” Dean stands up and walks over to check out the model cars. “Where did you get these?” he picks up the Firebird and looks it over.

“Bought them at a yard sale,” he looks very satisfied with himself, getting Dean to notice the cool things in his room.

“What are you doing all this for?” he asks Sam.

“What?” Sam looks confused.

“Decorating and buying stuff, its not like we live here, we’re just staying here temporarily.”

“I wanted to give my room something nice. It’s my room, not a motel room, my room and I wanted it to be that way,” Sam remembers the album cover under his arm.

“It’s just junk you’ll have to get rid of when we leave,” Dean looks around, he likes what Sam’s done, won’t ever admit it but wishes he had the guts to do it too but knows it would make it all the harder to just pick up and leave whenever dad got the urge.

“It’s not junk and I’ll deal with that when the time comes Dean,” he’s a little bit pissed off so he shoves the album cover at Dean. “Here, I got you this for your wall, but you don’t have to put it up.”

Dean looks at the album cover. “AC/DC Highway to Hell,” he smiles wide. “Dude, seriously this is like my favorite album of all time,” he’s smiling from ear to ear.

“Don’t get too excited it’s only the cover,” Sam’s surprised that he’s so happy about it but then again he wanted him to be happy about it.

“I know but still, you thought of me, like this,” Dean grabs Sam and pulls him into a tight hug. “Thanks,” he fights the urge to kiss him on the forehead.

“You’re welcome,” Sam’s a bit embarrassed because his heart just skipped a few beats and he wants Dean to kiss him, somewhere on his face.

“I’m going to hang this up, right now,” he grabs a push pin from a dish of them on Sam’s nightstand and heads to his room. Sam follows him over. Dean jumps up on the bed and hangs it directly over the headboard. “There,” he showcases it like a model on a game show showing off a prize. “Now I have junk on my walls too,” he jumps down. Sam sits on the edge of the bed, he looks over and sees a crumpled up tissue lying next to him and blushes because he knows what’s on that tissue, so he stands up again.

“It’s nice decorating your own space, isn’t it?” he pats Dean on the back.

“Yeah, who knew little brothers knew what was best sometimes,” Dean laughs.

 

John left a few days ago on a hunting trip, leaving Dean in charge until he gets back. The boys have been living on pizza and burgers because Dean hates cooking unless it comes from a can.

When Sam gets home from school he decides to cook an actual meal for them before Dean gets home. He decides on sloppy Joes. He cooks the meat and adds the can of sauce, makes a salad and even manages to make some instant chocolate pudding before Dean gets home.

Sam can hear Dean saying good-bye to the girls that drop him off. He’s a big hit with the cheerleaders and that annoys the hell out of Sam. The table is set and Sam’s sitting at it when Dean comes in. “Hey,” he notices the table. “What’s for dinner?” he quips.

“Sloppy Joes, salad and for dessert, chocolate pudding, I cooked it all myself,” Sam gives a proud gleam.

“Chef boyar Sam,” Dean chuckles. “Sounds good,” Dean sits down at the table.

After they eat, Sam’s doing the dishes when a storm rolls in. There is plenty of lightening and thunder; the rain beats down in sheets on the windowpane over the sink as Sam stares out at it. A loud clap of thunder sounds then a bright flash of lightening and the power goes out.

“Shit,” Dean hisses. “You okay Sammy?” he can’t see anything until his eyes adjust.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Sam drops a glass and it shatters in the sink. Dean jumps up and runs over, hits his knee on the counter and trips, falling into Sam. Sam falls backwards onto the floor, Dean on top of him.

“Seriously Dean,” Sam’s pinned beneath Dean’s body. “I’m fine,” he laughs. He’s actually quite enjoying Dean’s clumsy body slam.

“I heard glass and well, you know,” Dean rolls off of Sam. “Sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine; I’ll clean up the glass once the lights come on again. It’s all contained in the sink anyway so no fear of cutting our feet or anything like that.”

“We need flashlights,” Dean flicks his Zippo open and lights it then starts looking for them.

Sam reaches into a drawer in the kitchen and pulls out two flashlights. “Here,” he shoves one into Dean’s side to get his attention. “Got them,” he turns his on and shines it in Dean’s face.

“Come on,” Dean swats it away. “Blind a guy, why don’t you,” he then does the same thing to Sam and laughs hysterically.

It’s been two hours and the electricity is still out. “I’m going to bed,” Sam shines his flashlight under his face and makes a creepy grin.

Dean does the same thing with his flashlight. “Okay, I guess I will too, nothing to do right now anyway,” he crosses his eyes and makes a hideous frown then laughs maniacally.

“Night,” Sam’s stepping into his room but keeping an eye on Dean too. “Not gonna close my door, ya know, in case you need me, so I can hear you,” he says with a confident voice.

“Okay and I’ll leave mine open for you too,” Dean’s pretty sure Sam’s going to need him at some point.

Sam’s asleep when he feels the bed jostle, he opens his eyes and focuses, it’s Dean climbing in bed with him. “Dean,” he says sleepily. “Yeah, thought you might not want to be alone, maybe can’t sleep because of the storm,” he snuggles in tight to Sam who’s pushed to the edge of his tiny bed already. Sam knows it’s Dean who needs the comfort and he’s willing to have him here if it makes him feel better. “Thanks Dean, you always know what I need,” he pushes into Dean’s warm body and tries not to think about how good it feels pressed against him, just tries to go back to sleep and not think about his brother crammed in bed with him.

When Sam wakes up, Dean’s got his arm slung over him and his face is buried in Sam’s neck. Sam’s not sure what to do next because this is the first time Dean’s pretty much spooned him. He knows rationally that it’s the tiny bed forcing them together and that Dean has nowhere to put his arm but over Sam’s waist, but it isn’t helping the fluttering in his belly or the tingling happening in his nether regions. He lies there for awhile just enjoying the nocturnal spooning and warm press of Dean’s body to his. He dares to shift a little and push into Dean’s embrace, his ass shoved against Dean’s crotch; he closes his eyes and lets a pleasant smile cross his mouth as he sighs softly with content as he drifts back to sleep.

The sound of the TV wakes Dean up; his limbs are tangled up with Sam. He tries to slowly remove himself but Sam stirs.

“Morning Dean,” Sam says, wiping his sleepy eyes.

“Morning,” he acts like its normal for them to be tangled up together. He doesn’t even try to move. If he were totally honest, he likes being tangled up with Sam but he’s never going to admit that to himself or anyone else, ever. “Guess the power is back on.”

Sam laughs. “Must have been off all night,” he tries to turn over and face Dean but he can’t. “This bed is too small,” he removes Dean’s arm from around his waist then inches off of the arm that is trapped underneath him. “Next time, it’s your big bed instead.”

“Deal,” Dean’s sitting up while adjusting himself so that his morning wood doesn’t show through his boxers as he heads to the bathroom.

Once Dean’s gone, Sam tries to will his hard on away. He’s aching to touch himself but Dean’s right across the hall in the bathroom with the door open and the fact that all of his dreams were about Dean kissing the back of his neck and foundling him, has him very uncomfortable with his own feelings.

 

It’s just a few more days before John is back and announcing that they’re moving on, “Pack it up boys, we move out in three days,” he’s very unceremonious about it.

“But, thought you said it’d be a few more months, it’s only been a month,” Sam’s clearly upset.

“We’re leaving Sammy, this thing’s on the move, that means we’re on the move with it,” he spreads a map open on the table with red circles and black arrows on it. Dean steps behind him. “Hunting something big?” John looks over his shoulder at him. “They’re always big son,” he goes back to plot his map.

“It’s always something big, always something on the move,” Sam mumbles as he goes into his bedroom. He sits on his bed and looks at his wall, chest of drawers and everything he’s added to the barren room to make it his own. He didn’t think he’d actually feel this sad about moving out but he’s allowed himself to get too attached to something that he knew wasn’t going to last.

“I’ll help you take everything down,” Dean’s walking into Sam’s room. He looks around. “Pretty impressive digs, never thought you were so cool Sammy,” he smiles and sits down on the bed next to him.

“Thanks, I guess,” Sam leans into Dean. “I’ve never had anything of my own before. We always have to share everything and it felt really good to have this room and be able to decorate it like I wanted.”

Dean puts his arm around Sam to comfort him. “It’s alright, you have plenty of time to have your own things in life and hey, you’ve got me, I’m all yours,” he squeezes Sam tighter.

“That’s not much of a consolation prize,” Sam laughs and Dean ruffles his hair.

Sam packs everything up and puts it to the curb for the trash pickup. He’s looking at his lamp and the shiny brass ball at the end of the pull chain ad it catches in the sunlight. He reaches up and gives it a hard yank pulling it out of the lamp socket and shoves it into his pocket before going back inside.

Dean’s making sure the drawers are empty and his duffel is packed when he looks up and sees his album cover. He stares at it for a minute, thinks about it, then climbs up and takes it down. He flips it around in his hands, then puts it into his duffle bag and zips it shut.

The boys pile into the car as John does his final check to make sure they didn’t forget anything. When they finally drive down the street, Sam looks back at the tiny one floor house that he’ll always remember as being his temporary home.

Sam sees his sixteenth birthday in the middle of a hunt; his right of passage is chopping off the heads of six vampires holed up in the Blue Ridge Mountains. John doesn’t even remember it’s his birthday and drops them off at the motel before taking off again for unfinished business.

“I know I didn’t get to say it yet today but Happy Birthday Sammy,” he hands Sam a small envelope with a Christmas bow on it.

“Thanks Dean,” Sam smiles, his dimples showing. He opens the envelope and pulls out a fake ID with his picture on it and the birth date making him twenty one years old. “What, no bikini inspector or inspector gadget ID?” Sam laughs.

“Hey now I can take you drinking and we won’t get thrown out of the bars again. Also, there is the tag team pool hustling and newfound wingman duties,” he winks and gives Sam a nod.

“Seriously, thanks Dean,” he gives him a hug.

“You’re not getting off that easy, we’re going for a drink, it’s your twenty first birthday after all.”

“Um, no car,” Sam reminds Dean.

“What, this motel has a piano bar and lounge, maybe even some great chicks, we just may get you laid for your birthday present,” he waggles his eyebrows. Sam just laughs and shakes his head.

Half an hour later they’re sitting at the piano bar listening to the man tickling the ivories croon out Barry Manilow tunes.

Dean gets hit on by several women while Sam’s just nursing his beer, being mellowed out by the music. Dean disappears for a few minutes then comes back.

“Sammy, see the chick in the corner with my girl,” he points to the back of the room. Sam looks.

“Yeah, so,” he turns back around.

“She’s yours,” Dean’s smiling from ear to ear. “Happy Birthday bro,” he slaps Sam on the back.

Sam turns around and looks at her again. “Dude, she’s got to be like thirty, I’m,” he whispers really low. “Sixteen,” he takes another swig from his beer before turning back around.

“Experience Sam, experience,” he takes a drink from his beer and then orders another drink for his date. “Now order her a foo foo drink and get over there,” he takes his drinks and walks back to the ladies.

Sam takes another drink, thinks about the model-esque brunette, with the super red lipstick and tight red mini dress for a few more seconds before ordering her a banana daiquiri and himself a shot of whiskey along with another beer.

He downs the shot, takes a drink of the beer, lets out a long sigh and heads to the table with the drink.

Dean’s all over Debbie and Sam can barely make conversation with Fiona, she’s got her hand on his thigh as she talks about how cute his dimples are and how she’s waiting to get out of this town and move to New York City where she can be a model. He’s bored out of his mind and not horny at all.

Dean leans over the table. “Ready to go Sammy?” he has a lascivious look in his eyes. His mouth is smeared with lipstick and he smells like cheap cologne.

Sam looks wide eyed, his heart drops and he knows Dean expects him to be all over her and have his birthday de-virginization. “There isn’t enough whiskey to make me want to have sex with her,” he whispers.

“Dude, it doesn’t matter, she’s just your first, they don’t matter,” he slaps Sam on the shoulder then turns back to the girls. “Ladies, ready to roll?” They giggle as they climb out of the booth behind him. Sam rolls his eyes and follows along.

They stumble back to the room, Dean fondling Debbie as she giggles and squeals. Sam’s merely holding Fiona around her waist, barely pulling her close. Dean kicks the door open as he falls inside dragging Debbie along, they don’t make any bones about what they want to do heading straight for the bed. Sam closes the door and swallows hard, looking his date up and down trying to find something to turn him on.

“Same room?” Fiona says shyly.

“I guess so,” Sam replies awkwardly. He goes over and sits down on the bed, his back to Dean who is half naked at this point and getting hot and heavy with his partner. Fiona sits down next to him and puts her hand on his thigh, she slowly works it up to his crotch then squeezes. Sam shifts uncomfortably and decides to return the favor. He leans her back on the bed and puts his hand up her thigh until it’s buried beneath the hem of her dress, he runs his fingers over the cotton crotch of her panties then kisses her. She tastes like sweet rum and breath mints, not that unpleasant of a taste but it does nothing for his libido.

The sounds from the other bed are distracting as Debbie giggles and Dean moans a low growling sound. Sam looks over at them and Dean’s completely naked, his cock standing proud as she strokes it while he has his fingers slipped inside of her shaved slit, stroking her clit. Sam feels a tinge of jealousy flood his belly but then he sees Dean looking over at him with a huge smile. He mouths _go for it stud_ as he continues to watch him.

Sam’s fueled by Dean, the sounds he’s making and the way he’s watching him makes his cock twitch, makes his heart flutter and makes him want to come, hard. He slides up on the bed pulling what’s her name with him, she opens his jeans, her red lips smiling as she pulls out his thin hard cock. She runs her hand over it, pulls at it, then yanks her dress down to her waist and sticks it between her tits. Sam gasps at the feeling of soft warm skin enveloping his cock, he looks over at Dean whose staring right back at him. Debbie’s on his cock riding it and Dean’s still watching Sam.

The moans coming from Dean are desperate and deep, Sam can’t even hear Debbie’s noises as he’s concentrating on Dean’s. His cock is rock hard and he can’t help but buck and groan when he feels wet heat slip over his needy cock. He looks down to see, her, with those red lips wrapped around his cock. He grabs her head as he turns to look at Dean who has a broad smile across his mouth and then, he winks at Sam. Sam throws his head back, his eyes still connected with Dean’s and he comes completely undone by his brother winking at him. He bucks into the wetness and comes without warning down her throat. Sam’s panting, hands clutching the sides of her head as he releases into her, when he’s finished Dean gives him a nod of approval.

Sam keeps watching as Dean grips Deb’s hips tight then bucks into her, his eyes closed, brow knit and lips parted in an O as a loud moan from deep in his throat sounds out and he comes hard inside of her. When he opens his eyes, he looks directly over at Sam who is staring back, completely enthralled by his brother’s orgasm face. They smile at each other as Sam pulls Fiona up beside him, leans over her and slips his fingers inside of her, he’s not even looking at her as he pumps hard shoving deep inside of her a few times while he strokes her clit with his thumb. He’s still looking over at Dean, gauging his reactions when she moans loudly, squeezes her thighs tight together and releases a wet sticky mess down over his fingers.

When Sam finally looks down at his date, her red lips are hopelessly smeared, he’s totally wrecked her hair and at some point that he can’t even remember, her panties got to hanging off of one leg.

It’s all very unceremonious as they shuttle the girls out the door only moments after the deed is done, but this was never meant to be anything else but a birthday deviriginizing for Sam.

“Happy Birthday dude,” Dean squeezes Sam’s shoulder then pats him on the back. Sam’s not sure how to respond because when he realizes what just happened, that he just got turned on watching his brother fuck a girl in the same room with him while he clumsily got off using another person, he’s a little bit embarrassed. “Thanks,” is his only response.

“Gonna clean up,” Dean goes into the bathroom; he looks in the mirror and then closes his eyes. _I fucking got off watching Sam come down that girls throat,_ he thinks. He splashes his face with cold water then washes his cock too. _What the fuck is wrong with me? I couldn’t stop staring at his cock._ he’s upset that seeing his brother’s penis turned him on, that he wanted to watch him get hard, fuck and then come but he wanted it to be with him, not with a chick. He shakes his head and dries his face. _Snap out of it Dean,_ he tells himself before going back into the room. Sam’s out cold, seems that coming that hard his first time with another person, knocked him out.

They don’t talk about what happened the night before and when John comes to pick them up the next day, they’re relieved to be leaving this place behind.

[Part2](http://j2-ficwhore.livejournal.com/31377.html)


	2. A Bed of their Own/part 2/nc-17

Its Sam’s graduation from high school, they’ve stuck around for almost four months in Eastern Pennsylvania. Just long enough for Sam to actually obtain a diploma from the Scranton Senior High School.

John rolls into town just in time for the ceremony, to see his son graduate with honors.

Dean’s like a proud papa watching Sam collect his diploma. Blue gown with yellow honor ribbons, pasteboard hat flanked with a gold tassel that he turns to the left before walking off stage. Dean gives him a standing ovation and whistles through his teeth before yelling, “Go Sammy,” and then whistling again. John just rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

There is no graduation party for Sam, no friends to invite him to any either, they just go back to the flea bag motel on the edge of town. John orders a pizza, lets Sam drink a beer with it and lets them watch a pay movie on the television.

John passes out on the bed while Sam and Dean are finishing off the pizza and watching a skin flick while lying across their bed.

“So Sammy, where do you see yourself in five years?” Dean asks holding his beer bottle like a microphone.

“Ahhh, hunting demons,” he laughs but knows that it’s true.

“Okay, then what are you going to do to celebrate your victory over the public school system?” he holds the bottle up to Sam’s mouth.

“Go to Disneyland,” he laughs. Dean starts to take the bottle away but Sam pulls it back. “I’m sure something is haunted or possessed there.”

Dean laughs. “Yeah probably Mickey Mouse is possessed,” he rolls over on his back and belches. “Seriously Sammy,” he looks over at him. “You hate this life.”

“Yeah but it’s the family business and it’s not like I have any other choices, besides there’s you, I can’t leave you,” he tickle attacks Dean and they both erupt in a hysterical fit of laughter.

“I think you’re drunk on that beer,” he shoves Sam off of his body and sits up.

“Two beers, and I’ve drank more with you on different occasions and not gotten drunk. I’m just, I don’t know, happy I guess.” Dean yawns and slaps Sam on the shoulder.

“You have a bright future ahead of you my boy. Did that sound fatherly enough or should I practice some more,” Dean laughs and Sam joins him but he knows, there isn’t much more than hunting in his future.

When the movie ends, their snuggled under the covers, Sam half asleep and Dean nodded off about half way through.

This is the first time they’ve shared a bed since that night Dean crawled in to Sam’s tiny bed at the house in Iowa.

When they wake up Dean’s draped over Sam like a blanket, Sam’s arms are wrapped around his waist and their legs are tangled up in a knotted mess. Dean quickly unwraps himself from around Sam and clears his throat. “Sorry,” he says shyly.

It’s not like it’s a tiny single bed like back in Iowa, it’s a giant queen sized hotel bed, and how Dean managed to wrap himself around his body like that, amazes Sam. He clears his throat. “No problem, it’s cool,” he’s blushing as he adjusts his hard on so that it’s not sticking up from under the waistband of his pajama bottoms anymore.

There are levels of comfort between the boys over the summer. The times when they are at their closest are when they’re sharing a bed in a cheap motel room or when John’s gone for a few days and they just pal around. Sam gets a jealous twinge in his belly when Dean flirts with girls but he tries really hard not to let it show. Dean won’t admit it but he only flirts with girls when Sam’s around to watch his eyes turn that green shade that they do when he’s jealous or envious of something. Neither ever mentions their feelings to the other.

Summer is almost over and Sam gets a call from Bobby that he has mail at his address; Sam knows right away what it is, the letter from Stanford University. His guidance councilor had insisted he send out at least one college application. He’s worried, nervous and excited all at once. _Maybe there is a way out,_ he takes a deep breath. “Read it Bobby,” he ducks into the bathroom, locks the door, puts the toilet lid down and sits on it. He’s biting his nails, something he hasn’t done in ages. His leg is bouncing as he hears Bobby ripping the paper envelope, then the rustling of the letter unfolding. Bobby clears his throat. “It’s from Stanford University,” he waits for Sam to reply. “Yeah, it is,” Sam’s voice is quiet. “Okay son, here it goes,” he clears his throat and begins reading the letter. “Dear Samuel Winchester,  
Congratulations on your admission to Stanford University! For nearly 200 years, Stanford has proudly welcomed new students, and we are excited for you to be part of this great tradition. As a member of the Class of 2008, you will join a dynamic student community in a place of endless opportunities. Stanford offers an unparalleled setting for the next chapter of your life.  
We were impressed by your academic achievements and believe strongly in your potential for continued success. You have received the highest academic scholarship our school offers to the best and brightest candidates. There is an attached letter of your complete Academic Scholarship and the details of its broad funding for your education. Yada, yada, yada. Boy does your dad know about his,” Bobby sounds confused.

“No, but really I never even expected to get a letter from them, my guidance councilor sent in a college application for me, I refused but signed it figuring I’d never get in,” Sam’s both excited and scared at the same time. He’s torn between his life with Dean and going off to college.

“You have some decisions to make boy, September will be here in less than a month. I don’t want to be the fly on the wall when John finds out,” he sighs loudly into the receiver. “But good luck Sam, I’m proud of you and I wish you all the happiness.”

“Thanks Bobby,” Sam hangs up the phone and takes a deep breath. He comes out of the bathroom, looks over at Dean eating a bowl of cheerios, the milk dribbling down his chin and wonders if he can leave him.

It’s several more days before Sam decides to reveal the letter to John and Dean. Sam sits down at the table; John and Dean are focusing on some maps spread out across the table.

“Can we talk?” Sam says clearing his throat, getting up the courage to tell them about his life changing letter. They both look up at him.

“Sure,” they say in unison.

“So, I…” Sam fiddles with his fingers and swallows then clears his throat again. “Got this call from Bobby the other day and he told me I had a letter from Stanford University,” he looks up into their eyes and swallows again as he gauges their reactions.

“Stanford,” John looks puzzled and sits down in a chair. He clasps his hands and puts them in the middle of the table, gives his most serious fatherly expression and exhales hard. “Continue.” Dean’s jaw drops and he can’t stop staring at Sam.

“A full scholarship to the school.” Sam can feel tears welling up in his eyes. This is the hardest conversation he’s ever had with Dean.

“Wait, what?” Dean says reaching across the table and taking Sam’s arm.

“Calm down Dean,” John pulls his hand off of Sam’s arm. “When did you apply for college?” John’s voice is getting deeper and sterner.

“I didn’t, Mrs. Caswell the guidance councilor insisted because of my grades and achievements even though we moved around a lot. She said I was a good candidate for college and maybe even a scholarship, which I am,” Sam never takes his eyes off of John whose face is getting redder by the second.

“Dean, leave us alone,” John commands. Dean leaves but doesn’t go far, he’s just around the corner in the bathroom listening to the entire conversation. “You have obligations here boy,” he slams his hand on the table.

Sam flinches, he knows how John gets when he’s mad but he stands up to him, grabs all of his courage from deep down inside and shoves it all forward as he stands up and goes toe to toe with his father. “I have choices, I have things in this life that matter and I want to take them. This isn’t about you, not about hunting, and not about being your good little soldier,” Sam’s fist bangs on the table.

They are like two bulls going at it, horns locked, nostrils flaring as they circle around each other volleying for the upper hand.

“If you go Sam, don’t bother coming back,” John’s words are dark, his eyes fixed on Sam’s as if he’s peering into his soul. “I mean it,” he steps forward, his body pressed against the table, the only thing keeping them apart and he grits his jaw with a dominating huff.

Sam doesn’t back down, he sets his jaw, his eyes filled with unshed tears, his breathing uneven and his heart racing a thousand beats a second. “I need more out of this life,” his voice cracks. “I haven’t left yet and I’m not sure I will but if I do, you can be sure, I won’t come back through your door again,” he slams his hand down on the table in a mark of stubborn refusal to give in to his fathers commands. He has nowhere to go, the small motel room is their only home at the moment so he grabs his jacket off of the chair and walks out the door.

Dean comes running out of the bathroom and heads out the door behind Sam. He finds Sam doubled over in the parking lot on his knees with his face in his hands. Sam’s nerves get the best of him and when he shuts the door behind himself, his entire body starts to shake, his stomach is threatening to not keep down the food anymore and he falls down on his knees crying. Dean touches his shoulder and he looks up. “Fraternizing with the enemy,” his voice is rough. “Mr. Winchester won’t like that,” he stands up and steadies himself with Dean’s shoulder. Dean puts his arm around Sam. “Come on, lets get you inside. Sam shakes his head no. “I can’t, just can’t, Dean.”

The door opens and John comes out, “I’ll be back in a few days. You’ve got some decision making to do Sam,” he’s emotionless as he climbs into the Impala and drives away. The boys just watch the taillights disappear down the road.

Sam’s sitting on the bed and Dean’s beside him; they’re just sitting there, waiting for the other to say something. “I…” they say in unison. Sam laughs. “Go ahead,” he touches Dean’s shoulder.  
“I think you should stay but it’s your decision,” he looks away from Sam.

“But it’s a chance for me to do what I want, to go to school and use my brain for other things besides researching supernatural stuff,” he touches Dean’s hand tenderly.

Dean smiles at the touch and looks into Sam’s eyes. “What if I asked you to stay?” his words are tender and frightening to him. His emotions are raw and he feels like if Sam leaves, he’s lost everything he’s ever wanted.

“I’ve never denied you anything, Dean,” Sam’s tears glisten on his cheeks as they roll down his face.

“Sam,” he pulls him in tight, puts his face in his chest and holds Sam there, rocks him to console him. He kisses him on the top of the head. “Love you Sammy,” he whispers. Sam looks up, their eyes meet, Sam’s lip quivers and he blinks. He sits up, wipes away the tears streaking his flushed skin and touches Dean’s cheek.

They’re silent, eyes locked together as they examine each other, Sam’s thumb caressing Dean’s jaw line and Dean leans into it, licks his lips and closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath then opens them again. Sam’s watching every movement, every flickering of emotion in his brothers eyes. “Love you Dean, always have,” he slowly leans in and kisses Dean’s parted lips. It’s soft and tender and when Dean kisses him back, Sam’s heart starts to flutter. Dean’s hand comes up and holds Sam’s head at the nape of his neck. Sam’s hands clutch Dean’s broad shoulders and neither can get enough of the taste or the feeling that they’ve been waiting for, for so long.

They can’t breathe, their bodies impossibly close but they refuse to let go, to break this embrace and lose this feeling. Sam throws a leg over Dean’s lap and straddles him, body raised up on his knees as he’s kissing him with desperate passion. He’s not entirely sure what he’s doing but Dean seemed to like it when he watched Debbie grinding against him like this.

Dean’s hands slide down Sam’s body to his hips; he pushes his thumbs through the belt loops of Sam’s jeans and guides him downward to rest his ass across his lap. Dean’s sliding back on the bed pulling Sam with him and trying desperately to strip him of his shirt. Sam breaks the kiss and comes up for air. “Jesus, Dean,” he’s helping him to take his shirts off. Dean’s smoothing his hands over Sam’s thin waist, up his flanks and under his arm pits as he pushes his t-shirt off. Sam pulls the shirt the rest of the way off, he’s half-naked and straddling his brother. Sam’s dick is hard and throbbing almost painfully, his mind is racing with what he wants Dean to do to him and every fantasy he’s having has Dean with his hand shoved inside of Sam’s jeans stroking his cock until he gets off.

“Fuck,” Sam blurts out, his head tilted back as he shoves into Dean’s crotch. “I need you to touch me Dean.”

Dean smiles, “I never thought you’d ask,” he opens Sam’s jeans and shoves his hand down inside of them. His hand fluttering roughly over Sam’s cotton clad cock. He knows he’s teasing Sam and he loves every second of it. Sam grinds down desperately, his body reacting to the touches as if he were about to explode.

“Shit, Dean, make me come, I wanna come,” he’s almost begging as he pushes into Dean’s touches, trying hard to get more friction against the digits. He grabs Dean by the sides of the face and tilts his head up. “I want to taste you,” his pupils are blown out with lust and his cheeks are flushed. He leans down and kisses Dean, hard and wanton. Sam’s whole body is thrumming as he slips his tongue inside of Dean’s parted lips. He’s swiping his tongue over Dean’s, feeling the slick bumps and hard muscle as they move around each other. Sam’s never French kissed anyone before, never kissed anyone outside of his first sexual experience, so having Dean be his second and very best kiss ever, is enough to make him blow his load all over Dean’s hand.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Sammy, slow down,” Dean says breathlessly, his hand holding still inside of Sam’s jeans. “Enjoy this,” he uses his free hand to touch Sam’s cheek, wipes the spit from the corner of his mouth with his thumb. “We don’t have to be in a rush,” he moves his hand around to the back of Sam’s neck then pulls him down for another kiss. He takes his hand out of Sam’s jeans and moves him off of his lap. Dean stands up and strips down completely. He’s standing bare naked at the foot of the bed, bowed legs and hard cock is all that Sam sees, he swallows hard as he’s shimmying off his own jeans and boxers.

“Mmm grrrrrrrr,” Dean growls as he watches all six feet of Sam’s long lean muscle stretch out on the bed. His thin long cock curves upward in a tantalizing hook; Dean licks his lips at the sight. He’s never looked at any other cock before with the same lustfulness that he’s seeing Sam’s with. Sure he’s experimented, sure he’s had a few guys during threesomes but he’s never wanted them with the same unabashed desire and heart pounding lust that he finds himself wanting his brother with. “Beautiful,” his voice is low and breathy. He climbs up Sam’s body, his tongue starting at Sam’s calve and winding its way up to his knee. Sam giggles and Dean sucks at the loose flesh before moving up to his thigh, dipping down onto Sam’s inner thigh then moving upward until he reaches his balls.

“Oh fuck,” Sam moans, his entire body is on fire, tingling and sweaty just from Dean’s glorious mouth. His hand reaches down to stroke up his cock and Dean stops him before he gets any farther than fingers around the base.

“No Sammy,” he intertwines their fingers, “that’s my job,” Dean licks a wet stripe over Sam’s very tight balls and Sam shutters trying to push his knees together but Dean’s body keeps them apart.

“Please Dean I’m not gonna last,” Sam begs. His hands are pushing down on his belly as he feels the warm sensation that always starts before he comes.

“Don’t worry, you’ll last,” Dean wraps his hand around the base of Sam’s balls, up close to his body, he threads his fingers in behind them then pulls down so that he can pinch off the vas deferens with his thumb and two fingers. “I promise,” he sucks one of Sam’s balls into his mouth and runs his tongue around it.

Sam pushes off of the bed, “FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!,” he shouts as his cock twitches and leaks pearly clear precome. Dean smiles and continues his torturous pleasure. “I’m a fucking virgin,” Sam cries out as he feels Dean run his thumb over the tender pucker of his ass. Dean chuckles.

“Not from what I saw but don’t worry, your ass is safe, I’m only playing with it,” he pushes his thumb against it then removes it again. Sam relaxes.

“Oh God, I wanna come so bad Dean,” he’s arching off the bed as Dean moves up and licks the wet creamy head of his cock. His warm tongue laving over the engorged throbbing head feels so intense. Sam reaches down and threads his fingers through Dean’s hair; he tries to push his head down onto his cock more. “Need it,” he begs, his hips rocking up off the bed at Dean’s mouth. Dean smiles then sucks the head in, tongues over it, pushes at the slit then lets it slip out of his lips with a pop. Sam bucks; he’s moaning and rotating his hips. “Christ,” he mumbles. Dean loves every second of his torture.

Sam’s panting, “Want to touch you,” he moans, he’s biting his lower lip with the excruciating slow pleasures Dean is giving him. Dean licks up the underside of Sam’s jerking cock then swirls under the mushroomed head before opening up and sinking down on it. He slides it to the back of his throat and gags before pulling up. “Oh God, are you okay?” Sam sits half up with a horrified look on his face. “It’s cool,” Dean’s reply is muffled as he has a mouthful of Sam. Sam grips the sheets and curls his toes as he watches Dean’s mouth suck and blow at his cock. Dean’s cheeks are puffed out as he goes down then pulled in when he comes up. Sam studies it, loves it, can’t get enough of it and his balls are aching with the need to ejaculate. Dean can tell Sam needs to desperately come, he’s afraid he’s hurting him so he lets go of his vas deferens and replaces his mouth with his hand. “Gonna let you come Sammy,” his voice is wrecked from blowing Sam.

It only takes a few rough strokes over Sam’s spit soaked cock before he’s coming like a fountain. “Oh my God,” Sam yells as he lets loose, his balls so tight they feel like they’re never going to stop pumping as his cock jerks and spews strings of pearly white into the air. Dean’s palm is covered in come as he pumps Sam for all he’s worth. “Give it to me Sammy, show me what you’ve got,” he’s whispering just loud enough that Sam can hear him. “So sexy, so hot,” he coos as the fluid wanes to a mere drizzle. He gives the head one more squeeze and Sam moans impossibly loud. “Beautiful,” Dean says climbing up Sam’s body to claim his mouth. Sam’s limp and breathless; his tight arm muscles relax as Dean kisses him, soft and gentle.

“Wanna make you come,” Sam manages to moan out against Dean’s warm lips. His eyes are closed and the thrumming in his body is finally starting to subside.

“Won’t take much, I can promise you that,” Dean says turning onto his back. “You’re so fucking hot and I’m so turned on by your performance that I could probably come just replaying it in my mind,” he licks his lips and closes his eyes, his hand drifts down to his cock and Sam wants to watch this but he grabs Dean’s wrist.

“To quote you, this is my job,” he runs his nails down over Dean’s chest to his navel. He climbs on top of Dean, knees on either side of his thighs and settles in. Dean’s watching, intrigued by what he’s seeing. Sam takes his flaccid cock and rubs it over Dean’s rock solid hard on. The cooling come smearing over the shaft before Sam takes his hand and begins to tenderly stroke it. “Been thinking about this for years,” Sam says a bright smile on his lips and a dark twinkle in his eyes. “Been wanting to touch you since we lived in Iowa but was too afraid, you being my big brother and all. Got real jealous of your cheerleader girlfriends too,” he strokes a little harder, his thumb capping the head with a circle before grazing the underside of the ridge and down the shaft again. Dean’s watching Sam; he can’t take his eyes off his long lean body, that moppy hair all wild from his thrashing around on the bed when he came. He’s listening to the words, that confession of how long he’s wanted him, how much he wants him. “Can’t get the image of you coming inside of that slut at the Mountain Ridge Motel out of my head, the way you closed your eyes and bit your lip as she pumped your cock with her cunt,” Sam licks his lips then spits down on Dean’s cock for more lubrication. “Then you looked at me and winked, fucking winked at me, you motherfucker, you tore me apart inside as I laid there spent from my blow job, working on another hard on from watching you. I wanted to come, come on your face, force you to taste me then kiss you senseless,” Sam’s cock twitches. “Just the thought is making me hard again, see what you do to me Dean, you fucking sex God,” Sam strokes his own cock a few times as it fills again,

“Christ Sammy,” Dean’s rotating his hips, pushing into Sam’s hand. “You’re making me come apart inside,” he reaches up and grabs the headboard. “I wanted you, wanted you to want me. I couldn’t stand watching her blow you, had to pretend it was me sucking you off. Christ, you make me insane. Can’t even fucking jerk off that you’re not staring back at me as I come,” he arches his back and lifts his ass off the bed. Sam pushes him back down with the weight of his body.

“Gonna make your fantasy come true now, Dean. I’m gonna make you come as I stare down into your face,” he positions himself so that he’s got his long fingers wrapped around Dean’s thick cock and his own dick at the same time. “Need to feel your come on me, coating my cock, making me come for you,” Sam’s barely coherent as he strokes them with a tight grip. He’s holding himself up over Dean, their eyes locked. Sam bites his lower lip and grunts. “Come for me Dean,” he urges as Dean huffs hard breaths into his face and can barely keep his eyes open. His cheeks are flushed making his beautiful freckles stand out; the peppered bridge of his nose is exceptionally cute with a tiny bead of sweat trickling down it.

“Can’t hold on,” Dean grunts with a rough voice. His balls are tight, his belly is pooling with that familiar heat, so he sucks his gut in to quell it. “Fuck,” he gasps out as he bucks hard into Sam’s grip. “Oh!” is a hard exhale as he squirts out his first stream of jizz. Sam follows him over the edge, coming weakly against his own hand. He grunts, it’s a spent sound but he comes again, the trickle of come smearing over Dean’s cock as it shoots another thread of spunk over Sam’s hand. Dean’s holding Sam’s shoulders as if he lets go, Sam’s going to float away. He feels the last of his come ooze out and he relaxes. His body spent as Sam’s weight flops down on top of him. “Jesus H Christ,” Sam huffs out as it’s mumbled into Dean’s shoulder.

“Exactly,” Dean says running his fingers through Sam’s soft locks.

The dynamic of the boys has changed drastically since revealing their feelings for each other. Their time alone is spent cuddling and barely being able to keep their hands to themselves, they sneak hand holding under the covers when their dad is back and the covert sexual jabs fly constantly. Sam’s not sure if he’s ever been this happy and Dean loves falling into the domestic relationship life.

Sam’s still plagued by his acceptance to Stanford even though he’s made his decision as to what he wants to do. He’s staying here with Dean and even if it means a life of hunting, it also means, this life with Dean, he just has to tell him.

Sam’s lounging on the bed doing research as Dean eats popcorn and watches a horror flick on TV. Sam looks over at Dean and smiles, figures it’s time to tell him, he’s not going anywhere. He sits up and snuggles in close, takes a handful of popcorn and shoves half of it in his mouth. Dean smiles at him and pushes closer.

“I wouldn’t trade this for anything,” Sam says nuzzling Dean’s shoulder.

“Me either,” Dean says running his hand over Sam’s thigh.

“That’s why I’m not going to Stanford next week,” he looks up at Dean with loving eyes.

Dean sits up tall and looks down at Sam. “What,” he furrows his brow and frowns a little.

Sam sits up to meet him eye to eye. “I’m staying Dean,” he says earnestly.

“I don’t know how to respond to this,” he’s not upset but not sure if he should be happy either.

“Be happy,” Sam puts his arms around Dean’s shoulders. Dean lets Sam kiss him, lets him comfort him but he’s torn between Sam’s actual happiness and the life he’s choosing to stay with him.

Dean goes out to get dinner later and as he’s crossing the street he passes the bus station, he stands out in front of it for a few minutes, looking inside, staring at the call board and listening to the sounds of the buses pulling in and out. He goes inside and buys a ticket for Palo Alto California, one way in the name of Sam Winchester. He’s sure this is the right choice.

When he gets back to the motel he sets out the food, he doesn’t say much and Sam doesn’t find it odd since his nose is buried in a book of lure and mythology. “Dinner,” Dean says putting a Styrofoam take out box in front of Sam and handing him a pack of plastic wrapped utensils with handi wipes.

“Smells good,” Sam says opening the lid. Dean’s watching him quietly, not opening his food yet. “What’s this?” he says picking out a plastic folder and opening it to find the bus ticket Dean had bought. He reads it and gives Dean a stern look.

“Now before you say anything Sammy,” he’s going to explain but Sam cuts him off.

“You want me to leave, want me far away from you,” he stands up. “I thought you loved me,” tears start to form in his eyes.

“No, Sam, that’s not it at all. I bought the ticket to give you choices, to give you life outside of hunting,” he takes Sam’s arms and squeezes. “I want you to have something you’ve always wanted, a normal life,” Dean sheds a tear.

“But, we… we just found each other,” his words are broken. “I.. just… can’t leave you,” he falls into Dean’s arms.

“Don’t look at it like that Sam, don’t worry, I’m not leaving you. We’ll figure this out, I’ll come and see you, I need you but you need to be in school and finding out about those choices you’re being offered,” he kisses Sam’s cheek, the tears dampening his lips.

“Just hold me,” Sam knows he’s right, knows he should go and now with the ticket, he doesn’t have a reason to say no.”

In the morning, when John gets back, Sam’s already packed; he’s ready for the walk to the bus station.

“I guess you’r leaving,” John’s back is to Sam a he lays out some weapons on the table.

“Yeah,” Sam picks up his duffel and takes a deep breath.

“Take care,” he throws the car keys at Dean. “Go ahead,” he never looks up, just keeps looking at his knives.

When Sam gets on the bus, Dean wants to grab him, pull him back, kiss him hard and give him more reasons to stay then go, but he knows this is what Sam needs so he just stands there, waving at him through the window. Sam presses his palm to the glass and mouths _Thanksgiving_ , and Dean nods with a huge smile and yells as if Sam can hear him. “I’ll be there,” he waves as the bus pulls away from the curb.  


[Part3](http://j2-ficwhore.livejournal.com/31048.html)

  



	3. A Bed of their Own/ part3/ Nc-17

There is a mountain of paperwork and registrations, schedules then dorm assignments. When Sam opens the door to his dorm, he feels like he’s been through the wringer. There are two tiny beds, one has a suitcase on it already, so Sam takes the other.

He flops down and throws his legs up onto the bed with a loud sigh. “AHHHH,” his feet hang over the edge a little, even though his head is shoved against the headboard. He doesn’t care because, he has his bed.

The suitcase just sits on the bed untouched day after day after, day and its several more days until he’s confronted with the fact that he even has a human roommate. Sam’s shaving when the door opens and a guy walks in, he looks at Sam and flashes him a huge pearly smile. He’s dressed in pajama bottoms and no shirt. He points at the suitcase. “I need clean socks,” is all he says as he opens it up, grabs several pairs of socks and then hurries out the door. Sam doesn’t even know his name and to be honest, he kind of likes it that way.

There are things that Sam buys to decorate with, not normal college decorations but things he likes. He puts up shelves and lines them with his favorite books, some of them myths and lore books. He has a few books on magic and then a few classics. He gets a fish, he never had a real pet so the fish is the closest thing to a pet he’ll get here, its name is Catfood and it lives in the goldfish bowl on the nightstand. There is a poster above his chest of drawers of a 1967 Chevy Impala, okay he can’t be sure it’s a 1967 but it looks like their car so he puts it up to remind him of home. The only thing he misses other than Dean is the queen sized beds at the motels, because he can barely turn over in this bed and his feet hang out over the short mattress. He needs Dean to keep his feet warm.

Sam’s settled in to college life when a package from Dean arrives. He apparently got the letter he sent him via Bobby’s address. He reminds him that he hasn’t forgotten about Thanksgiving and that dad bought a truck, gave him the Impala and has taken off for places unknown, except for check in calls with the cell phones they’ve set up. The box has a cell phone in it and an address book. He ends the letter with, “Call me when you get the chance, I miss your voice.”

With extreme excitement he throws the letter down and grabs the address book and phone. Dean’s is the first number listed in the book and he drew a heart next to it which makes Sam laugh because Dean is the farthest thing from a romantic girl. He dials the number and waits to hear Dean’s voice.

“You’ve got me,” Dean answers.

“Dean,” Sam’s voice is full of boyish excitement.

“Sammy,” he has a wide smile. “God,” he exhales hard into the receiver. “Say something else, I wanna hear you.”

“I miss you so much, can’t wait for Thanksgiving to hold you in my arms again,” Sam’s heart is racing.

“Four more weeks and I’ll be there and in your arms. So how’s school?” Dean’s trying to make some conversation because the thing he wants to do is talk dirty while he’s driving.

“Hard, long and stressful,” Sam laughs. “It would be easier if you were here with me, at least the long and hard parts would be..” he thinks about how to phrase it. “Fulfulling,” he almost giggles at his dirty joke.

“There ya go, trying to get me thinking about long and hard when I was trying to keep this conversation clean,” he laughs. “Now I wanna talk about long and hard and sweaty and maybe even fucked out with possibly a very real creamy ending,” Dean clears his throat, he can feel his prick hardening at the thought of talking dirty to Sam on the phone.

“Oh, God, Dean,” Sam’s words are breathy. He’s been hard since he hit the first number on the phone to call Dean. “Now you’re making me hot. I want to grab that stiff cock of yours and devour it,” he sits down on his bed and spreads his legs wide, his full erection apparent through his loose fitting jeans. “Ya know, I grew a few inches, hit a growth spurt and my hands are bigger too, want to wrap them around your cock, squeeze your balls and let my long fingers spread your cheeks wide before slapping that firm freckled ass of yours,” he licks his lips. “I wish you could see how hard I am for you,” Sam opens his jeans and pulls out his cock.

“Always could talk dirtier than me Sammy,” Dean pulls over to the side of the road, he’s working over his cock with slow pulls as he listens to what Sam wants to do to him. “Grew a few inches, that would make you over six feet now wouldn’t it,” he bites his lower lip at the thought of Sam towering over him while they fuck.

“Six two now,” he squeezes some lube on his cock then smears it around. “Does that turn you on that I’m taller than you now?” he slips his hand up the shaft of his cock, nice and slow as he waits for Dean’s response.

“It does,” Dean flicks his thumb over the head, teasing the wet slit.

“My cock’s bigger too, fatter and a bit longer. Bet you couldn’t deep throat it now, but I’d love you to try,” Sam arches his hips as he squeezes the head of his cock just thinking about Dean’s perfectly bowed lips stretched wide around his thicker cock. The feeling of it hitting the back of his throat as he tries to take it all the way in but can’t. He moans with the combined real life touching and incredible fantasy he’s having. “Your lips are so perfectly pink stretched around my cock,” he moans out.

Dean’s coming apart. “I’ll take that bet Sammy. You know me, never one to back down from a challenge,” he pushes against the floorboards as he hums with the pleasure of his palm pulling the slick underside of his cock. “Fucking gonna make me come,” he grunts out.

“Love it when you come,” Sam’s voice is deeper, breathier and needy sounding. “Love watching your cock jerk as it comes on me, spills out on my chest and neck. Love watching you stroke that big fucking fat cock as you aim for my open mouth,” his hand moves faster over his shaft, he’s roughly bumping the mushroomed edge of his red swollen head as his thumb and index finger only graze the underside before he slips back down on a moan. His hips are rotating into his touches and his balls are pulled up. “Hear you calling my name as you finish your load on me. God Dean you’re so fucking hot, such a goddamned fucking sex machine with that pretty mouth and freckles. You make me come undone,” he’s panting now with each word, his stroking faster as he squeezes tight with each pull. “Make me come all over those fucking freckles,” he comes on the word freckles, his hand coated in thick mess, his body arched in a bow off of the bed as he works himself through it.

“Christ,” Dean lets it out on a breathy hiss. He knows Sam just came and it’s his undoing. “That mouth,” he groans as he spills the first burst of come against the steering wheel. “No wonder I love fucking it, it’s so damned slutty,” he’s pumping hard and fast as the final spurts of come shoot over his lap. He ends on a groan. “I miss you,” he relaxes into the seat, limp and satiated.

“Does that mean, I love you?” Sam’s completely sprawled out, legs hanging off the bed, his arm dangling over the headboard as he comes down from his high.

“Of course,” Dean can’t stop smiling.

“Then I miss you too,” Sam’s more content than he’s been since he left for school.

It’s Thanksgiving break and Sam is staying behind because where would he go, and, Dean is coming to visit him.

When he gets back from class at the end of the day the suitcase from the other bed is gone, so he can only assume that his nonexistent human roommate has gone home for the holidays.

Dean’s driving around campus looking for Sam’s dorm but all the buildings look exactly alike to him, so he calls Sam, “Dude, which is your dorm?”

Sam chuckles. “Where are you?”

“I don’t know, in front of some big building next to another big building beside a green lawn and a few benches under a tree,” his tone is exasperated.

Sam’s laughing very hard right now. “Dude, you just described the entire campus. Does the building say anything on it,” he looks out his window to see if he can see the car.

“Ummm, do not litter.”

“Anything else?” Sam’s smiling from ear to ear as he walks out onto the lawn.

“Yeah, Lab l07.”

“Cool, stay right there, I’m on my way,” Sam sprints across the campus. He can make it in a few minutes because there is no congestion or traffic, they’re basically alone for the weekend. He walks up to the car and taps on the window. “Found you.”

“Oh My God, you’re huge,” Dean says climbing out of the car. “And your hair is so long and shaggy,” he grabs Sam and pulls him into a tight hug. “Fucking gorgeous,” he can’t believe his little brother has grown up in such a short time.

“Yep, big and shaggy, that’s me,” Sam laughs. They kiss like they haven’t seen each other in years, like a dying passion has been rekindled.

Back at the dorm Dean can’t believe the tiny beds. “Where am I sleeping cause damn, it’s not with you or I’d be on top of you,” he smiles as he thinks about that. “Yes, with you.”

Sam’s laughing. “We can push the bed together, it’s not like my roomy has ever even slept in that bed cause he’s never here. I think he might be Gollum and his socks are his precious,” Sam laughs at his own joke.

“Ummm, yeah, whoever,” Dean lies down across the bed. “So what’s for dinner?” he smiles a shit eating grin.

“Turkey subs and cranberry relish with,” he opens up the mini fridge. “Beer.”

“Excellent, never break tradition Sammy but I was expecting KFC because I thought you might like to be a little bit classier since you’re a Stanford student now,” he laughs.

After dinner they lie on the floor and cuddle. Sam’s wrapping his arms around Dean and pulling him in like the little spoon. “There are perks to your new hugeness,” Dean laughs as he relaxes into the warmth of Sam’s body. “Lots of perks,” Sam replies with dark intent.

They don’t get out of bed the entire weekend, except for food and when it’s time for Dean to leave, Sam actually cries. They hug and Dean promises to be back soon and reminds Sam that now they have phones so he’s never more than a voice pitch away. Sam watches Dean drive off and he feels a real pain in his chest, like he’s letting something go that he shouldn’t.

Over the next few years, there are lots of booty calls, a few stolen romantic trips but Sam always ends up back at school and Dean runs off to hunt with John.

 

So when Dean shows up one night unannounced, Sam’s not worried until Dean tells him that they need to find Dad because he hasn’t heard from him in awhile, Sam drops everything including his interview for law school to go find his dad. He had every intention of going back once they’ve found him, every intention of not being a hunter but sometimes you play the card life deals you and hope for the best. Sam is a hunter with a normal man’s heart that just happens to love his brother above everyone or everything else.

It’s been one long dark road trip to where they finally end up. John dies giving his life for Dean’s survival. Sam dies as part of a hierarchy plot by the yellow eyed demon. Dean dies saving Sam with a crossroads demon deal, ripped apart by hellhounds then resurrected by an angel. Bobby Singer dies the old fashioned way, a bullet to the head by a leviathan, he’s missed and revered as the only real father figure the boys ever had. Through all this, they’re still pushing on. Dean and Sam both go to hell but for different reasons, there are deals made for their souls, Sam becomes addicted to demon blood so Lucifer can use him as his personal meat puppet and Dean gets an Angel of the Lord as his best friend. Through all of this they’re still dueling with evil from the depths of hell to the edge of heaven and back to earth again.

There is no normal in their life so when they find out that there is this super secret bunker once owned by a secret demon fighting society from the 1950’s called the Men of Letters and are actually given the key to it, they don’t hesitate to move right in.

To Sam it’s a library and workspace. To Dean it’s a kitchen, bathroom and bedroom that just happen to have a full library for Sam to geek out on. It’s more than a bunker, its hot meals and warm showers, a familiar bed to sleep in and a place to call home.

Sam’s toiling over a stack of books with his laptop and a note pad while Dean’s in his bedroom. He’s unpacking the last of his clothes from his duffle. He’s so used to living in motels that even though they’ve been here for three months, he’s still unpacking his things. Once everything is out and in drawers he’s putting his bag in the closet when he notices something in the bottom, he reaches in and pulls out a tattered worn album cover. It’s the AC/DC Highway to Hell cover that Sam bought him years ago to hang in that bedroom in Iowa. He smoothes it with his hands, the tip of his finger catching on the push pin still through the edge and he sucks the blood from the tiny hole. He’s put up shelves with mementos and weapons, a few posters of things he likes and now its time for the final piece. He pushes the pin into the edge of the bottom wooden shelf and straightens the cover, steps back and looks at it with a smile.

Sam really doesn’t have a bedroom here, he sleeps wherever he falls over which is mostly at the long wooden library table in the center of the great hall. Dean usually wakes Sam up and takes him into his bedroom, which is actually their bedroom.

It’s an unusual night that Sam actually goes to bed with Dean unless there is some hanky panky happening and then to be honest, that happens everywhere in the bunker, even the dungeon. So when Sam sits on the edge of the bed and starts pulling off his shoes, Dean’s a bit surprised. He turns on the light and rolls over. “Sleepy?” he asks. Sam just nods yes. He stands up to take his jeans off when he notices the album cover, he stares at it and then looks over at Dean. “You still have that?” he says with astonishment.

“What?” Dean looks around.

“The AC/DC cover,” he points at it.

“Sure, its been in the bottom of my duffel for years, thought it was time to dust it off and hang it up since we’ve planted roots,” he smiles and touches the corner of it.

Sam’s smiling from ear to ear. He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a tiny brass pull chain with a ball on the end and puts it on the shelf above the cover. “This is from that brass lamp I had in that house. I saved it all these years and when I felt homesick for a real normal home, I’d reach in my pocket and feel for it to help make me feel better just knowing that for a few months, I had a real home,” he sits on the bed and smiles at Dean.

“We have a home now Sammy. Yeah it might be a secret bunker, but it’s ours and no one is going to take it away from us,” he puts his arms around Sam.

“I love that you’re domestic,” Sam leans into him.

“Someone around here has to be,” Dean kisses Sam’s cheek.

They lay down together, holding each other tight and just cuddling, enjoying the quiet peace that has settled between them and Sam thinks _Maybe there is something normal in my life,_ he snuggles in closer to Dean who relishes the warm comfort of just being with the man he loves.

The End  



End file.
